The water of the Coral Plains did not just darken; it turned into a suffocating, viscous soup of crimson pressure. The shadow that had fallen over the arena was not merely a physical obstruction of the light—it was a spiritual weight, a gravity of malice that pressed the air from Alvian's lungs even through his water-breathing enchantment.

Above them, floating with a majesty that defied the violence of the moment, was Highlord Ignis.

He was not a hybrid like the generals Alvian had dismantled. He was a True Dragon in humanoid form, a concept made flesh. He stood nearly thirty feet tall, his armor not forged but grown from obsidian scales that wept liquid fire. His wings were vast, tattered curtains of magma that boiled the ocean around him, sending plumes of superheated bubbles racing toward the surface.

[Target Identified: Highlord Ignis (The Blood Tyrant)]

[Level: 70 (Raid Boss)]

[Class: Elder Draconic Warlord]

[Status: Awakened / Domain Active]

[Threat Level: Catastrophic]

Alvian checked his mana bar. It was flickering near zero. The [Tear of the Infinite], which usually surged with the power of a tsunami, was sluggish, choked by the oppressive aura of the Blood Tyrant.

"Inefficient," Alvian whispered, his voice rough. "Round three is starting before I've recovered from round two."

Drakon, the White Knight who had been moments away from death, looked up at his liege. The hole in his chest, carved by Alvian's void lightning, was still smoking. But Ignis did not look at Alvian. He looked at his fallen commander.

"Stand, Drakon," Ignis rumbled. The sound was not heard; it was felt, a vibration that rattled Alvian's bones. "The Legion does not kneel to insects."

Ignis raised a hand. A stream of thick, boiling blood shot from his palm, slamming into Drakon. It wasn't an attack; it was a transfusion. The red light washed over the White Knight, searing into his wounds. The adamantine scales on Drakon's chest hissed and knitted together. The blackened flesh regenerated. The mana signature that Alvian had so painstakingly whittled down roared back to life.

[System Warning: Enemy Healing Detected.]

[Target Drakon: HP Restored to 60%.]

Drakon stood. He picked up his massive greatsword from the sand. His helmet reformed, covering his scarred face, but the hatred burning in his vertical slit eyes was visible even through the metal.

"My Lord," Drakon bowed his head. "He is… troublesome. His weapon ignores durability."

"He is a toy," Ignis dismissed, finally turning his burning gaze toward Alvian. "A sharp toy, but a toy nonetheless. You struggled because you played his game. You tried to duel a trickster."

Ignis spread his wings. The water temperature spiked.

[Field Effect: Blood Boil.]

[All enemies within 1km take 500 Fire Damage per second.]

[Healing effects reduced by 80%.]

Alvian's skin sizzled. The [Vestments of the Void Monarch] flared, the [Thermal Nullification] passive working overtime to keep him from being cooked alive in his own armor.

"Valeria, Kenshin, fall back," Alvian ordered, his voice tight. "This environment is lethal."

"We can't," Valeria gritted out. She was on one knee, her shield raised, glowing faintly. "The heat… it's sapping my stamina. If I drop the shield, I boil."

Kenshin stood beside her, his hand on his katana. The blind swordsman looked pale. His senses, usually sharp enough to hear a heartbeat a mile away, were being drowned out by the roaring mana of the Blood Tyrant.

"He is not just strong," Kenshin murmured. "He is the environment. Fighting him is like fighting the volcano."

Alvian analyzed the tactical situation. He had zero mana. His team was pinned. And he was facing a Level 70 Raid Boss and a Level 65 High Commander simultaneously.

"System. Potions."

[Inventory Access: Limited due to Environmental Pressure.]

"Use them anyway."

Alvian crushed three high-grade mana potions in his hand, absorbing the blue liquid directly through his skin. It was a drop in the bucket compared to his maximum capacity, but it was enough to cast a spell.

"Drakon," Ignis commanded, pointing a clawed finger at the huddled group of defenders. "Finish them. Show me that my blood was not wasted on you."

"With pleasure," Drakon growled.

The White Knight charged. But this time, he didn't use speed. He didn't use finesse. He was empowered by the Blood Tyrant. A red aura coated his white armor, granting him a secondary layer of protection. He moved like a juggernaut, the water parting violently around him.

"Valeria, brace!" Alvian shouted.

He stepped in front of her. He didn't have the mana for a massive [Frost Descent]. He had to rely on mechanics. He raised his [Lance of the Void Winter].

"Parry."

"CLANG!"

Drakon's greatsword slammed into the shaft of the lance. The impact drove Alvian's feet into the bedrock. The sheer weight of the blow was double what it had been before.

[-6,000 HP!]

Alvian slid back, plowing a furrow in the sand. His arms shook.

"He's buffed," Alvian noted through gritted teeth. "Stats increased by at least 40%."

Drakon didn't let up. He swung again. And again. A relentless storm of steel and dragon-fire. Alvian was forced entirely on the defensive, using every ounce of his 390 Strength just to keep from being crushed.

"Is this the power of the Godslayer?" Drakon taunted, locking blades with Alvian and leaning in, his helmet scraping against Alvian's face. "You look tired, little human."

"I'm just bored," Alvian lied, spitting blood onto Drakon's visor.

Behind them, Ignis watched, amused. He wasn't even fighting. He was simply existing, and his existence was killing them. The [Blood Boil] effect was ticking away their health. Valeria was panting, her golden aura flickering. Kenshin was leaning heavily on his sword.

They were dying. Slowly. Inefficiently.

"Enough," Ignis rumbled. "This sport grows stale."

The Blood Tyrant raised his hand. A sphere of concentrated magma formed above his palm. It wasn't just fire; it was compressed geological fury.

"[Draconic Art: Extinction Star]."

The water around the sphere evaporated, creating a massive steam bubble that expanded rapidly. The heat was blinding.

"He's going to wipe the grid," Seraphina's voice crackled in Alvian's ear, filled with static. "Alvian, that spell... the readings are off the chart. If he throws that, there won't be a reef left. There won't be a us left."

Alvian looked at the sphere. He looked at Drakon, who was grinning behind his helmet, pinning Alvian in place so he couldn't intercept the attack.

"Checkmate," Drakon whispered.

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